Oh well, I said I wouldn't blog again until I got home from Georgia, but I'm back in Chick-fil-A with my grandkids. Truett, the guy who started these chain restaurants, is a Depression era guy who has somehow managed to get franchise owners and employees to treat people as well as possible. I asked for a refill for my lemonade this morning, and the young teenager waiting on me said "my pleasure" when I thanked him. I was really taken aback. Call is southern hospitality...I guess they've taken service to a new height. But anyway, what's that got to do with Christmas, huh? We're here so that my grandson Garrett can play while my daughter Renee madly goes through all her presents for him and figures out if she's ready for tonight. Alex and I get the easy job, sitting in here while people eat their chicken sandwiches and drink sweet tea. The drawing of the nun's foot massage was one I made in Spain while standing in my hotel window. There was a nunnery right across from me, and this was what I saw.
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